Hana barely managed to regain her balance after performing a simple warm-up pirouette, thus avoiding colliding with the ice on her first axel of the evening. The training session separating her from a well-deserved weekend wasn't off to a great start, and the ice skater could only rejoice in the fact that her coach hadn't arrived yet. She would probably have noticed her obvious lack of application, and the young woman could definitely live without hearing that. She was well aware that her quadruple axel was not perfect, and that she was still a long way from mastering a quintuple. No need to remind her.

Her week had been interminable, and the last thing Hana wanted to do was skate for two hours. She was tired and unfocused, two good reasons that were - according to her - more than enough to skip her training. But with her grandmother's threats still hanging over her head, the young woman had no choice but to be patient and hope that her coach would be a tad more forgiving than usual.

As always when she came for private lessons, the rink was closed to the public, and the ice was resurfaced just before the end of her last school classes, so that the surface would be impeccable. Given her family's track record, the question of privatizing this space hadn't even been raised; it was obvious to everyone that Hana needed to have the whole rink at her disposal so she could make the most of it. We wanted the best for the young prodigy that she was, and we made sure we got it. Simple as that. Hana couldn't even remember the last time she'd skated with other people who'd come simply for the fun of it. She was always alone, with the reverberation of her music and skate blades against the ice for company. She'd gotten used to it.

About ten minutes later, Hana saw, out of the corner of her eye, a figure approaching the edge of the rink. Accustomed to the fact that it was just her coach - the public weren't allowed during these sessions, as the sign posted at the entrance could attest - the skater didn't bother to linger. Instead, she concentrated solely on finishing her routine and getting her posture right, so that her first interaction with her coach wouldn't be one of those acid reviews.

Hana performed a quadruple axel, and the shadow of a smile came to her lips as she realized it was perfect. She'd been practicing this trick for years, and the times she'd managed it so well weren't as numerous as she'd hoped. A feeling of satisfaction filled her, and Hana turned her head towards her coach to see what she thought. Except that, instead of her trainer's usual strict face framed by platinum-blond hair, she was surprised to find someone who didn't fit that description at all. Someone younger, with hair as dark as night and eyes as clear as spring water. Someone she never thought she'd find here again, or at least not today.

More than one question swirled around in Hana's head as she made her way to the gate allowing her to leave the ice. She didn't understand what he was doing here, but she was certain that his presence was no coincidence. The young woman was firmly convinced of this. She had a hunch that he knew perfectly well she'd be here, yet she'd never given him the slightest hint that she had anything to do with skating. He didn't even know her name. How could he guess anything ?

And above all, why had he come here when he could have met her at school ? Something felt wrong, and her hunch was soon confirmed.

When she reached the young man, Hana stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the closed expression on his face. It was the same as when they'd met at the vending machines earlier in the week. Distant and a little petty, as if she were just a thorn in his side. The young woman didn't show it, but his aloof attitude unsettled her a little. Surely, he'd never been overly happy to see her, but when they'd smoked together, the young man didn't seem irritated by her presence. And when they'd met at the pool, she'd even found him almost nice to her.

Hana thought perhaps he'd given up the threatening looks because he'd realized she wouldn't stand in his way. She had even surprised herself by imagining that perhaps he was beginning to enjoy her company....

What a disappointment to find out that she'd been led astray.

A heavy silence reigned between them. Hana didn't know what to say. She waited for him to start the conversation, but he seemed in no hurry to do so. With a cigarette tucked between his ringed fingers, he was simply observing her minutely, as if they'd never met. His gaze slid from her face to her skates, before finally returning to her face in an expression Hana couldn't decipher. He chuckled discreetly before bringing his fag to his lips, pulling on it as he looked away.

Unable to bear the strange atmosphere any longer, Hana finally snapped.

—How did you know I was here? She asked calmly, crossing her arms under her chest.

The young man slowly turned his attention back to her. He studied her for a few moments with his piercing gaze and, after what seemed like hours, finally deigned to open his mouth for something other than spitting smoke.

—That's hardly surprising, he commented, arching an eyebrow. I'd expect nothing less from you, Hoshino.

Oh. He knew.

—I see, said the young woman, slowly understanding what was going on. Did you ask about me, Akaashi ?

Hana could have sworn she saw the shadow of a smile cross his lips before he gave up his cigarette, but she wasn't sure.

—I had to, retorted the young man, discarding his cigarette end. But I can tell I'm not the only one.

There's a hushed silence.

—So, can I ask why you're here? Asked the young woman cautiously. I guess... you didn't come here without a good reason.

—You guess well.

With a mechanical gesture, Akaashi lit his lighter and ignited the tip of his cigarette. Seeing the grayish vapors escaping from it, the young woman hesitated to remind him that smoking was strictly forbidden inside the ice rink. She changed her mind, however, when her eyes met those of the young man again, reminding herself that, in addition to probably not giving a damn about the rules, he would offer her nothing more than a bored glance. Hana waited for him to speak again on his own, which he did just after expelling the smoke accumulated in his system for a second time.

—I hear you're fifteen, he said, giving her a sidelong glance. Is that true?

Hana didn't reply immediately, mentally analyzing the content of this out-of-the-blue sentence. She wasn't a fool. She could see it was some kind of trick question, but she couldn't work out what it was. What did her age have to do with it? Choosing to be cautious, the young woman decided to play the ignorant by skirting around the question with another.

—What's your point? She asked, fixing her gaze once more on his.

Akaashi sighed, realizing that she wasn't going to make it easy for him this time. So he decided to get straight to the point, without any further detours.

—I'm turning eighteen next month, the boy announced, taking another drag on his cigarette.

It didn't take much for Hana to get the gist of what he was thinking: he wasn't taking her seriously because she was much younger than he thought. He thought she was an incompetent kid, even though she hadn't thought of herself as such for years.

Hana had always felt out of step with people her own age. Their maturity diverged too much from hers. Life had forced her to grow up faster, and she couldn't relate to people who couldn't understand her. Hana preferred to play in the big league, with people who were just as aware of reality as she was. And to stay there, she didn't hesitate to act accordingly. There was a certain comfort in being treated like an adult. Whether for good or bad things, Hana made no difference. As long as it gave her that spark of adrenalin that kept her from sinking...

—Are you telling me you've got a problem with my age? She asked, even though she knew the answer.

According to her quick calculations, he was born in May. She was in November. There was a difference of about two and a half year. Only that. 

—We could say it like that, yeah, retorted Akaashi, laying a heavy gaze on her. If I'd known earlier that you were so young, I wouldn't have done anything with you, he continued, not bothering to mince his words. We're not looking for the same thing.

The young woman didn't take exception to his harsh tone, or even to the value of his words. She'd become so accustomed to worse that it was hardly likely to hurt her. But even though she was used to it, her stomach still knotted with apprehension, an old reflex that had never left her since it first appeared.

—Don't you think it's a bit pretentious to pretend you know what someone you don't know wants... without even asking them?

—I'm just going by my experience, commented Akaashi as if he was indulging in small-talk under the sun. Something you happen to lack of.

Hana rolled her eyes.

—And what do you think I want, then? She taunted sarcastically.

—Same things as the others, I guess, he retorted calmly, leaning against the rink's railing. A serious relationship. Not only hook-ups. I don't want to be bothered with any more girls following me around for weeks, hoping to be more than fuck buddies, Akaashi summed up roughly, scratching the back of his head. I'm not interested in any kind of relationship, he concluded briefly.

Hana had listened to him pour out his thoughts without the slightest interruption. She had silently taken in every word he said, content to react to every new absurdity he uttered.

He really did see her as a lost girl who didn't know what she wanted.

An intense feeling of disgust seized her, and she mentally insulted herself for daring to enjoy his company. She didn't like his idea of her, and the fact that he'd come to the rink to provoke her so openly only increased her anger. She already didn't like being here, so he didn't need to barge in with his haughty air and prejudices to put her in a bad mood.

—You're so modest it's embarrassing, ironized the skater.

—I'm just stating my truth, replied Akaashi, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. I don't care if you don't like it.

Hana laughed discreetly at her interlocutor's insolence. On the surface, she seemed rather calm, but deep down, she longed to make him swallow his superior air.

—I don't know what's keeping me from slapping you, Hana grumbled, smiling falsely.

—The law? He suggested, unconcerned by the threat. Or your height ?

She opened her mouth to retort, but a third voice interrupted.

—This is a private training session, resounded a voice with a slight foreign accent. You don't belong here, young man.

As one, they both turned their heads so quickly in the direction of Hana's coach that they inflicted a violent pain on the back of their necks. The adult who had interrupted them stared at them coldly, clearly angry that her favorite pupil was taking a break instead of training, and her features tightened even more when her gaze lingered on what Akaashi held between his fingers.

—Can't you read? Smoking is forbidden inside the ice rink. Go away before I call someone.

The young man bowed quickly and left the premises. A short silence fell between student and master.

—What are you still doing off the ice? Said the coach, giving him a stern look. I hope you weren't screwing up your health with that boy.

—He's a visitor who got the schedule wrong, Hana explained as she opened the rink gate. Don't know him.

—Good, grumbled the adult in a low voice. You don't have the luxury of wasting your time thinking about this kind of nonsense.

For once, Hana was in complete agreement with her coach. But throughout the rest of the training session, not once had she managed to get Akaashi's insolent face out of her mind. Her blood was still boiling, and it didn't seem to be cooling off any time soon.

What a jerk.